


In the Grotto

by LarasLandlockedBlues



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Book: Swords and Shields - Varric Tethras, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Inspired by Fanart, Massage, Minor Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Oral Sex, Pining, Poetic Seduction, Romantic Gestures, Rylen Smut, Secret Admirer, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 16:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13344714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarasLandlockedBlues/pseuds/LarasLandlockedBlues
Summary: Knight-Captain Rylen discovers what makes Seeker Pentaghast happy, and does his best to help her find some stress relief.





	In the Grotto

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sangosweetz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sangosweetz/gifts).



> Inspired by [this NSFW fanart](https://sangosweetz.tumblr.com/post/169511229128/gugle1980-sangosweetz-tried-a-knight-captain) by the very talented Sangosweetz! I hope you enjoy. This is the ship I didn't even know I shipped.
> 
> Shoutout to GoldfishFiasco for encouraging this and helping me brainstorm. You're a doll! <3
> 
> xx,  
> Lara

Knight-Captain Rylen liked solving problems. It was what he was good at, what he enjoyed doing.

At Starkhaven, he had excelled at it until he reached the position of Knight-Captain at an early age.

When he was asked to lend aid to Kirkwall, he accepted immediately – the idea of fixing those problems sounded like the perfect challenge.

When Cullen asked him to join the Inquisition, he hadn’t hesitated. A chance to try to fix all of Thedas sounded like something he had been preparing for his whole life.

But now, there was one problem that he wanted to solve, but he wasn’t quite sure how he could go about doing it.

Seeker Pentaghast.

 _Cassandra_.

Even just her name was enough to thoroughly distract him from his work.

They’d been spending months together now, nearly a year, and he had never respected anyone more. Each and every one of their interactions was efficient, almost distant, despite how closely they had been working together.

He was beginning to spend more time lingering in the courtyard, watching her train, admiring her intense, steadfast dedication.

It was obvious to him when they stood across tables from each other as they planned, as he watched her across the courtyard – she was so tightly wound it was amazing she hadn’t burst yet.

She was so fierce, though, he wasn’t quite sure how to go about spending time with her outside of their work. Any time he thought about bringing it up, she hurried off again to throw herself back into work, or to accompany the young Inquisitor on another trip into danger.

Every time Cassandra came back, she just looked even more tightly wound, until he stood watching her deliver a report and thought about how much he wanted to work out the tension in her shoulders.

Something about her just made him want to take care of her, to relieve her of her burdens as much as he could, if only for a little bit.

He sighed a little to himself as he passed within sight of her training on his way to the Commander’s office. The sights of her hair glinting almost chocolaty in the sun and the sweat glistening on her forehead were burned into his mind, and he had to stop and clear his throat in front of the tower door.

“You can’t be serious,” the Commander’s voice came from inside the room, and Rylen paused when he realized he heard soft giggling.

The Inquisitor was in there.

Maybe he should come back later. The last time he had interrupted them, he could tell he’d caught them in the middle of an intimate act. It had been a rather uncomfortable meeting with the Commander after that, trying to ignore the way that his hair was standing on end from how she had obviously been dragging her fingers through it.

“Yes – I’m being serious, Cullen. I caught her reading it and she told me she’s read every single one,” he could hear the Inquisitor say.

“I never would have thought – she and I have sparred together and she _beat_ me,” Cullen laughed. “Who knew Cassandra was such a secret romantic.”

Rylen froze. He had been about to turn and walk away, determining to leave the two of them alone, but now he couldn’t seem to move.

“I think I’ll ask Varric to sign something for her,” the Inquisitor continued.

“Evelyn, you shouldn’t – she would be mortified -” but the Commander was laughing as he said it.

“Well, he hasn’t finished the next installment, maybe I can convince him to do so if I tell him _Seeker Pentaghast_ is a fan of his writing.”

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“What can I say? You should have seen her blush. Plus I think deep down it would make her happy, even if she didn’t act like it.”

And the two began to laugh again.

 _One of Varric’s novels?_ If they were talking about her being a great romantic, it had to be _Swords & Shields_. Rylen had found plenty of copies stashed in secret corners of the Starkhaven Circle when he was a Templar. He’d even flipped through one once when he was bored; if he’d had the time, he would have read a bit more of it. The smut had been a nice reprieve while he was taking a break from patrolling.

But now – now he maybe had a way to solve the problem that had plagued him for months.

 

* * *

 

 Rylen tried to be casual, to look like he was inspecting the practice dummies to see what repairs needed to be made.

It gave him an excuse to stand near where she always practiced as he waited.

She approached, carrying her sword and shield as always, ready for her daily training. She slowed as she spotted what was waiting for her, and Rylen tried to keep his face neutral as he pretended to inspect the wooden dummy in front of him.

Cassandra stooped and picked up the pieces of parchment, looking around to see if anyone was watching her. Rylen quickly turned his attention to the dummies once more, as if he hadn’t noticed.

There was a shuffling of parchment, and a sharp intake of breath.

“The – the next – but how?” she muttered, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she sounded excited. “Oh _Maker_ , if this was Evelyn’s doing -”

She groaned, and almost sounded irritated. Rylen frowned, not expecting that reaction. He realized doing this anonymously meant that maybe she would think it was a joke. He wanted to find something to say, wanted to find some way to tell her to flip to the last page, to –

“Knight-Captain Rylen,” she called suddenly, and he turned, trying to keep his face from giving it away.

“Yes, Seeker Pentaghast?” he took in her piercing gaze, the shrewd look on her face.

_Maker, what if she realized it was him?_

“Did you by any chance see the Inquisitor near here? Or perhaps Varric?” she asked.

“No, my lady, I did not,” he quickly assured her, realizing he had the chance to make certain she knew it wasn’t a trick. “They’re both in the tavern with Dorian, they haven’t been near here.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Did you see anyone else?”

He paused a moment. “No, my lady, I did not. I’ve been inspecting the practice dummies for the Commander.”

She nodded slowly. “Thank you, Knight-Captain.”

“Of course, my lady,” he gave her a small grin, noticing the way she was staring at the parchment with renewed excitement.

 _Turn to the last page_ , he wanted to tell her, but didn’t.

He lingered as long as he could, looking over the dummies until he felt certain she had to be suspicious of how much time he was spending on the simple inspection. But when he chanced a glance at her, he saw that she was sitting on a small stool that was nearby, thoroughly absorbed in the sheets of parchment he had left for her.

His heart began racing as he watched her get to the last page, and he tried to keep himself focused on pretending to be busy instead of watching her. He cast furtive glances her way, watching as her eyes flicked back and forth over the words, the words he’d written for her, the love poem he had spent the late hours of the night writing, trying to get it perfect.

Her beautifully curved lips parted slightly as she took in his words, and if he wasn’t mistaken she immediately reread the poem as soon as she’d completed it. Her eyes didn’t seem to be able to tear away from the page, and she raised one hand to her mouth, her fingertips brushing the pink lips he wanted to taste so desperately.

She finally tore her gaze from the page and looked around, and he suddenly straightened and gathered his report on the practice dummies so that he could walk away. He tried to hide the smile threatening to spread across his face as he thought about the soft look that was on her face, and knowing that it was _his_ words that had put it there.

The next day, he realized he couldn’t stand and inspect the dummies again while he waited for her. He stood trying to think of another excuse, and luckily saw the Inquisitor walking nearby.

“Inquisitor, I was wondering if I may have a few moments of your time,” he called. She turned at his greeting and gave him a nod of her head, walking to meet him near the training grounds.

“How can I help, Rylen?” she asked, her unusual eyes peering up into his face as she stopped before him.

He hesitated, realizing he didn’t actually have a concrete task to discuss with her. His mind churned as he tried to think it over, trying to remember the reports he had recently read and what might be relevant to her.

He was distracted when Cassandra again approached where she normally trained, only this time there was an almost anxious eagerness in her stride. The Inquisitor saw where Rylen’s eyes were directed and turned to follow his gaze. She faced him once more, one of her eyebrows quirked, but she didn’t say anything.

Rylen watched as Cassandra almost snatched the piece of parchment he had left off the stool, and she quickly sat down to read it. Her lips were tugging up at the corners as she read, her eyes flicking back and forth eagerly over the words –

“Was there something you needed to discuss with me, Rylen?” the Inquisitor asked softly, and he nearly jumped when he remembered she was still standing there. She was looking at him with a curious gleam in her bright eyes, and she looked like she was trying to fight a smirk.

“I – well, I got a report -” he began, but she started giggling and he stopped. “Is – is something the matter?”

She cleared her throat and shot a quick glance in Cassandra’s direction. “No, no, nothing is the matter. Please continue.”

And suddenly he was speaking quickly, going over a report he knew he’d already given her, but in his nervousness he couldn’t think of anything else to say. She stood with her arms folded before her chest, a small smile on her face, and listened patiently to a report she had heard only a few hours before. When he finished she nodded and looked at where Cassandra sat.

“I think that was a sufficient cover, wouldn’t you say?” she asked him softly.

“What?” he asked, bewildered.

“I – I take it you’re the one who left her the chapter, yesterday?” she asked, her brows furrowing a little as she looked up at him.

“I – how did you know? Did she mention it to you? Or did Varric tell you he finished it for her?” his words came out of his mouth quickly, betraying his eagerness to hear what she may have said.

“She accused both Varric and I of playing a trick on her,” she told him. “We assured her it wasn’t us, and Varric wouldn’t tell her who asked him for it, even though she threatened him. Which means I can only assume that maybe, perhaps, it was you?”

He swallowed hard, feeling heat creep into his cheeks. But he saw the smile she was giving him, and felt encouraged to admit it. “Yes, it – it was me. Please, don’t tell her, I’m – I’m waiting until -”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” she assured him. “But just so you know, she told me in private that she liked the poem. Said she didn’t realize anyone could find the scar on her chin so – what was the word you used? Delectable?”

Rylen felt himself flush and cleared his throat, looking away from her. Still though, it was encouraging.

He looked to where Cassandra sat, still poring over the second poem he had left her, and noticed the faintest blush on her cheeks.

He excused himself from the Inquisitor, having found the subject for his next poem in the flush of the Seeker’s cheeks.

For two weeks, he continued to leave her poems and stood nearby to watch her read them.

The Inquisitor had begun transcribing the words for him, since she pointed out that Cassandra was likely to recognize his handwriting eventually. He would race from the Commander’s office, holding the new poem and blowing on the drying ink, not pausing to give thought to how willing the Inquisitor was to help him pursue the Seeker. She always smiled softly as she wrote out the lines, sitting at the Commander’s desk in one of his shirts, her dark hair slightly mussed from sleep – and other activities he tried not to picture. It was as if she was happy to help him woo the Seeker, as if maybe she felt the same way he did about the Seeker being so tightly wound.

Each day he had to arrive earlier and earlier, noticing that Cassandra was beginning to hurry into the training yard as if she wanted to try to catch whoever was leaving them for her.

Now, at the end of the second week, he was hurrying out with the sun, feeling sheepish for how early he had bothered the Inquisitor to write out the poem. But he needed to put his plan into action without Cassandra managing to catch him.

He pretended to be training as he watched her hurry to the stool he had placed it on, and she walked so quickly it almost looked like she was skipping.

When she saw what he had left for her, she slowed and stared at it for a moment. A soft, eager smile crossed her face as she bent and picked up the single red rose, the scroll wrapped around the long stem. He had spent all night perfecting the words of his love letter, and his fingers still bore a few pricks from his efforts to remove all of the thorns from the rose.

He cautiously observed her as she read, his heart hammering against his ribcage. It was a big risk, what he had finally decided to do, and even though she had become increasingly eager for his poems he worried that she wouldn’t accept the offer he was now making.

Cassandra finished reading the letter, and sank onto the stool. For a moment he was concerned, but then he saw her smiling as she held the rose up to her nose and inhaled deeply. She twirled it between her fingers for a few moments, rereading the letter. As if coming to a decision, she suddenly hopped off of the stool and hurried toward the keep.

Rylen smiled to himself, hoping that her reaction bode well for his plan. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and made his way through the courtyard to the stables. He’d left a satchel there for himself with everything he needed, and he had already asked the Commander for the day off from his duties.

The way Cullen had smirked at him told him that the Inquisitor had told him about the poems she was helping him with, but luckily the Commander was tactful enough not to mention it. Instead he had simply wished him well on his time off, as if he knew what he meant to do with the day.

 

* * *

 

Rylen couldn’t even remember how he had first found the cave, and he had kept it secret from everyone but the Commander. Cullen had tried to act only mildly interested in the location when it was mentioned, but Rylen could tell he had been eager to have it marked on his map. It meant that every time Rylen came here, he made certain to mention it to the Commander before he headed out, so that he didn’t accidentally interrupt him with the Inquisitor.

He knew they had to come here together, because the cave was absolute perfection, which he was grateful for as he looked around and began to make his preparations.

The cave was tucked away in the mountains, a long cavernous tunnel leading into a small chamber. The light from the torches and candles he lit sparkled around the room, gleaming on the wet rocky walls. In the middle of the hollow was a natural hot spring, and the water shimmered in the firelight, the steam rising off the surface and creating a faint fog throughout the cavern.

He laid out the wool blanket he had brought, setting out the goblets and bottle of wine he had bought from Cabot as well as the bits of fruit and cheese he had taken from the kitchens. He opened the pouch he had brought, and began to scatter the petals he had so carefully plucked from the roses purchased from an Orlesian merchant visiting Skyhold. He threw a handful on the surface of the water as well, and smiled when he saw the way the red petals floated so delicately on the water.

He rubbed his hands together, taking in the scene, his heart racing with anxious anticipation as he tried to steady himself for what he intended. He hoped that she didn’t laugh at him, or reprimand him as if it was inappropriate. He would understand if she rejected him, since he knew he was taking a risk doing this. But he found himself hoping, silently praying to the Maker that she accepted him.

He didn’t think he waited long, but the time passed slowly as if a lifetime passed in the warm cavern. But finally, he heard footsteps sounding down the tunnel that led to the chamber he was in, the echo of armored boots reverberating off the rocks.

Cassandra walked slowly, almost hesitantly into the room, and she stopped when she saw him. For a moment her eyes were wide, and she simply stared at him as if shocked.

“Knight-Captain Rylen?” she asked, her voice full of wonder.

“Yes, Cassandra,” he smiled at her. His heart was still racing, but he didn’t feel quite so apprehensive when he noticed that she was staring at him with surprise but not anger.

“You – you left me the chapter? You were the one who wrote me those poems?” she took another tentative step forward.

“I did,” he kept smiling, even though he couldn’t make out the look on her face. It was still surprise, but also something else.

“The handwriting – I thought it looked like -” she trailed off, thinking hard. “I almost thought the Inquisitor and Varric were playing a joke on me.”

He seized on the admission and took a few steps forward, intent on making certain she knew how serious he was being. “No, Cassandra, no joke. They both helped me, I’ll admit – but everything I said was true, and seriously meant.”

She almost looked like she blushed as she watched him approach. “Everything?” she asked, her voice low and suggestive.

“Yes,” he assured her. “You’re a beautiful, strong woman, Cassandra. I’ve admired you greatly from the moment I first met you.”

“You have?”

He finished closing the distance between them and held her gaze, admiring the way her dark brown eyes reflected the torchlight until they were almost glowing golden. “I have,” he confessed softly.

His heart raced as he took her arms in his hands, moving slowly, giving her a chance to refuse him. When she simply held his gaze, he leaned forward and pressed his lips softly to her cheek, to the scar that he had stared at across tables for so many months. A soft sigh escaped her lips, and he pulled back to look at her with a smile.

Her eyelashes fluttered shut as he leaned forward again, and he pressed kisses to her eyelids, one at a time. He kissed her other cheek, and rubbed his nose softly against hers before he kissed its tip. He kissed the corners of her mouth before he finally pressed his lips to hers, delicately flexing them as he enjoyed their softness.

Cassandra placed her hands on his waist, leaning into the kiss, and he gently moved his lips against hers for a long moment before he pulled away.

“I was thinking, perhaps, you’d like to relax in the hot springs?” he suggested softly. “I know how stressed you must be, considering how hard you work for the Inquisition.”

She raised one of her graceful eyebrows at him. “You seem to have thought this through.”

He smirked but didn’t answer, instead taking her by the hand and leading her to the picnic he had set up for them beside the spring. She slowed as she followed him, and when he turned to look at her he saw her eyes wide as she took in the romantically staged scene.

“Rylen, I -” she raised her gaze to his, a bewildered smile coming across her face. “I had no idea, I -”

He simply chuckled and squeezed her fingers lightly before he released her hand. “If you’d like, we can have some wine first,” he suggested, but he turned to see that she was working on the clasps of her armor. He smiled and began to do the same, keeping his eyes on her as she stripped.

 _Maker_ , she was beautiful. Her body was finely chiseled, muscular from all of her hard work, proof of just how strong and dedicated she was. When she removed her shirt and breast band, he felt himself harden in his breeches at the sight of her full, perky breasts.

“Maker, Cassandra – you’re the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen,” he told her, making his voice almost like a purr.

A flush started on her chest, and she gave him a smirk. The sight of her was making his heart race again, and he licked his lips since they had suddenly gone dry. He watched as she sauntered to the edge of the pool, taking in the sight of deep scars on her back and the perfectly round shape of her rear as she stepped into the hot water.

A delicious moan escaped her as she sank into the water, and the sound made him throb. He wanted to hear the sound again, but he knew he needed to take his time. He had so much planned for her, so much he wanted to do to ease her tension first.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” she asked, and he saw her eyeing the breeches he still wore as if she was waiting for him to remove them.

He quickly undid the laces and slid them down, and he noticed the eager way her eyes took in the sight of his hardened length as it bounced free from its confines. He would have blushed at the fact that he was already excited if it weren’t for the way her eyes widened slightly, the way the corners of her mouth tugged up in response.

He lowered himself into the pool and moved toward her, holding her gaze the whole time he approached. The water was perfectly, deliciously hot, and was causing her skin to flush pink with its warmth.

“Turn around, Cassandra,” he told her, and she furrowed her brows at him slightly but did as he requested.

He reached beside the pool for the small vial of oil he had left waiting for himself and poured a small amount into his palm. He warmed it by rubbing his hands, and then moved his hands to her shoulders. He began to massage her, gently at first, but he increased the pressure as he found all of the knots and kinks she had in her muscles that needed to be worked out.

She groaned and hung her head, leaning back against his fingers as he carefully tended to her tense shoulders.

“You’re – Maker, that feels wonderful,” she purred.

“You deserve to have someone take care of you,” he told her.

“And this – this is what you’ve thought about, like you said in your letter?” she asked, giving another moan as he found a particularly difficult knot with his thumb.

“Yes, every time I’m near you,” he told her, and he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.

“I had no idea,” she murmured. “I wish I’d known – you should have said something.”

“I wasn’t sure you would accept me,” Rylen confessed.

“How did you find out about – about the next chapter of _Swords and Shields_?”

“I have my ways,” he told her, not wanting to reveal that the Inquisitor had been telling the Commander. He could admit that later. “Did you like it?”

“Yes, but – how did you convince Varric?” she tried to look over her shoulder at him.

“I told him it was for his biggest fan,” he chuckled. “I apologize – he may tease you about it, but I wanted to do something that would make you happy.”

She turned to face him fully, staring into his eyes for a long moment before she smiled. “It did,” she admitted. “But what made me happier were your poems, your love letters – did you write them all yourself?”

“Yes,” he told her, and he wrapped his arms behind her to pull her closer to him. “And as I said, every word was true.”

She smiled at him and closed her eyes, tilting her head slightly in invitation.

He lowered and pressed his lips to hers, and after a moment he slanted his mouth. His tongue darted out and flicked gently, encouraging her to part her lips. When she did his tongue delved between them, eager to taste her sweetness. She slid her arms around his neck, holding him to her as they deepened their kiss, their tongues dancing eagerly against one another.

He felt like he had tapped into a passion neither of them knew existed, and he almost felt lightheaded at the sensations washing over him. When he heard her give a low moan against his lips, he knew that he was lost.

Rylen slid his hands down her back and cupped her rear, squeezing the firm flesh for a moment before he stooped slightly and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around him, breaking away from the kiss for only a moment to look down into his eyes with a smile.

He turned and slowly made his way to the edge of the pool, carefully carrying her and stepping out. He laid her back on the rose petal covered blanket and stretched himself over her, sliding his mouth along her chin and down her throat. He gently nibbled her flesh, sucking and licking as he went, eliciting low moans and sighs from her as he progressed lower.

He was worshipping her with his mouth, showering attention on every inch of her breasts that he could reach. He swirled his tongue around first one nipple and then the next, sucking and tugging them gently with his teeth until she was gasping as if they ached from his attention. He ran his tongue on the soft flesh beneath them, and then kissed his way down her lean belly, stopping to kiss each scar and freckle that he came across.

“You’re so beautiful, Cassandra,” he murmured as he trailed his tongue down the skin below her navel. Her breath caught in her throat, and he smirked to himself as he took her legs and put them over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of her thighs, listening to the way her breaths began to come out in soft gasps. He finally let his mouth hover over her sex, and he used one hand to spread her wet folds. “You’re already so wet, lass,” he purred, “I want to taste every bit of you.”

She slipped her hand into his hair, raking his scalp with her blunt nails, and he finally flicked his tongue out and slid it along her. She gave a deep moan and he repeated the action, and she pushed gently on his head. He smiled and took the hint, taking up a steady and relentless pace with his tongue. He swirled it around her pearl, listening as she cried out and moaned incoherent words that almost sounded like prayers to the Maker.

He could tell she was getting close, and he slid two fingers inside of her, lightly thrusting them and curling them inside her. He hit her sweet spot again and again until she began to roll her hips against his mouth, and he felt her begin to clench around him.

When she fell apart she cried his name, and it echoed through the rocky chamber, amplifying the sound and exciting him to new heights. The great Seeker, Cassandra Pentaghast, was coming undone and screaming _his_ name. Dreams really could come true.

She finally stilled, limp and breathing deeply, and he raised his mouth and removed his fingers. He knelt above her and she looked up at him from half-lidded eyes, the dark depths full of desire and contentment. He smirked and held her gaze as he raised his fingers to his mouth, sliding them between his lips and gleefully sucking her juices off.

“Just as sweet as I thought you would be, lass,” he said. She gave a soft moan at the declaration, and he felt more excitement leak from his tip. He was so hard he was struggling to go slow, his body nearly screaming to be inside of her. He laid himself back over her and pressed kisses to her face, twisting his lips against hers in a deep kiss so that she could taste herself on him.

“Rylen,” she murmured.

“Do you want me, Cassandra?” he asked as he took his thick shaft in his hand and gave a few strokes. “I want you, desperately – but I want to know that you want me as well, lass.”

She smirked and reached down to his hard length, brushing his hand aside and taking it in her own. He groaned as she began to pump him, clenching his eyes shut tight as she ran her finger over the slit in his tip and spread his leaking excitement over him. “What do you think, Knight-Captain?”

He crashed his mouth against hers, overwhelmed with the passion he was trying to keep in control. She moaned against his lips, answering him just as eagerly as she shifted her hips and guided him to her wet opening.

With a slow thrust he slid into her, and they broke their kiss as they both moaned at the feeling of their union. He pushed in as deep as he could, resting his forehead against hers as he tried to steady himself. After a moment he began to roll his hips, thrusting into her slowly, tenderly at first. She wrapped her legs around him, her arms hooked under his arms and her hands grasping his shoulders. He kept himself flush against her, their bodies against one another as if they were trying to get as close as they possibly could.

“Lass, you’re so tight – Maker you feel like a dream,” he groaned, and she gave a breathless laugh.

Rylen tried to stay as deep as he could, and as her response became even more eager he picked up his pace, his rhythm becoming almost frantic with his passion. He had thought about this for so long, and now it was happening. When he felt her beginning to throb slightly around him he moaned.

“That’s it, lass, come for me, I want you to come,” he told her, and she arched off of the blanket at his words.

“Maker your voice, I -” she gasped, but she gave a loud cry and her thrusts against him became sporadic. She fell apart, his name tangling with prayers to the Maker as she did, and he watched in amazement as she lost herself to the feeling. The sight pushed him to the edge, and he nearly shouted her name as his mind went black and his whole body shuddered when he found his own powerful release. He thrust as deep as he could, his movements slowing as he felt his seed fill her in hot spurts.

When they were both finished he collapsed on top of her, both of them breathing heavily. He was exhausted, sated, finally feeling pure contentment that he had taken her. But he could tell, he didn’t want this to be the end.

He had thought that he wanted to help relieve her stress, that he wanted to take care of her because she was too wonderful to be so tightly wound. As he raised his head and peered down into her dark brown eyes, he felt something else stir within him.

“Cassandra, lass,” he murmured, and he pressed tender kisses to her mouth. “That was – you’re wonderful. You’re absolutely wonderful.”

She laughed softly, returning his soft kisses. “As are you,” she told him. “I had no idea – all those days we worked together, all those reports…”

She stared up at him for a moment, and then a smirk broke across her face. She rolled and suddenly flipped them so that she was on top of him, and she braced herself with her hands above his shoulders. She held his gaze, a seductive look on her face.

“Perhaps this time you could recite some of your poetry for me, Knight-Captain,” she purred.

Rylen grinned, letting his hand slide up to cradle the back of her head and pull her close for a kiss.

“Gladly.”


End file.
